


All The Times Avoided (Before We Meet Face to Face)

by RodimusPrime036



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Solus Simping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 08:55:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28468641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RodimusPrime036/pseuds/RodimusPrime036
Summary: soulmate AU soulmate AU soulmate AU
Relationships: Ghost/Guardian (Destiny)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

Marksman is brought to life in a pile of rubble and metal. He  _ hurts,  _ hunched over and staring down at his hands- he is alive _ ,  _ alive and surrounded in the dusty brown of dirt, of rust red cars and mud-spattered blue trucks, and he is  _ alive  _ among the debris, among the death. (He gasps and sinks his fingers into the dirt- he is  _ alive.)  _

__

__ "Eyes up Guardian! …" the voice says more, but he is too fuzzy to catch it, "... I'm a ghost- well, actually, now I'm  _ your  _ ghost, and you- you…" 

There is a little thing speaking to him, and its optic is wide in shock as it clicks and chirps softly. (And it sounds alarmed, surprised as it trails off, and he wonders if it, too, is shocked to see him alive.) "You, uhm- you've been dead… a very long time," it spins slowly, and he is surrounded in a soft blue light that eases the aches in his joints and inspires him to heave himself to his feet. Dirt crunches, glass shards under his heels that squeal when he rests his full weight on them. (Something howls, the cry echoing off the rust-coated metal, and 'Ghost' seems to break out of whatever trance had taken over him. Or, he  _ assumed _ it was a him.) "Right, we need to get you to the city. But first… we need to get you a  _ ship.  _ I'm picking up something nearby that should be in working order- let's move." And he obeys, trudging through the junk. The sky is a brilliant blue, the sun bouncing glaring light of the cars that blind him if he looks around too long, and he admires the way that green plants and deep rust have laid claim to the once brilliant paint. Everything feels too bright and dimmed all at once, and he is  _ alive.  _ (He does not know how long he was dead, or what had been  _ before.  _ There is nothing before  _ now,  _ and Ghost has hidden in his backpack. He walks on.)

The  _ tower  _ overlooked the  _ city.  _ (He remembers these words, because they seem important.) The city is beautiful- glittering lights and beautiful splashes of colors that dance under his eyes. He leans over the railing, staring down until Ghost speaks again. "You- uhm-" (why did he sound so awed? The ghost was staring down at the city with him, his… body expanded outwards and its optic wide. Didn't he see this view often? He doesn't ask.) "You need to talk with Zavala, and Shaxx." He blinks. Those were names- did he have a name? He doesn't remember.  _ Eight,  _ his brain helpfully fills in, and he shakes his head softly.  _ No, that didn't sound right.  _ He follows the floating orb around, peering around  _ tower _ and taking in the sights. Other people ran around with their own ghosts, in brilliantly colored gear and armor. (His own was a dark grey, with few lighter patches. He watches one scamper by with clashing cyans and pinks, followed closely by two that matched with blues and white. He wonders why the first didn't wear the same colors.) 

He likes Shaxx. Shaxx greeted him with a thunderous cheer and clapped his shoulder- called him a  _ titan,  _ told him about  _ crucible.  _ He had given him weapons and new armor, had offered to teach him how to use his  _ Light _ , and called him  _ Guardian.  _ Was that his name?  _ No. That wasn't right either.  _ But it was a title, so he nodded firmly and let Ghost say his thanks.  _ Guardian, titan, ghost,  _ **_solar._ ** He knows that word, but he does not know how. He knows it is  _ him,  _ though. 

He is  _ Guardian,  _ he is  _ solar,  _ he has _ Ghost. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 🏃♂️💨

He earns a  _ name.  _ Shaxx had started it; had shouted over the comms, loud and eager; "you got that like a true  _ marksman!"  _ Saint-14, his second teacher, had continued to use the name- (was it teacher? They had, as Shaxx claimed, practically raised him the following months since he was revived, and he had turned into a wonderful titan.) Saint would greet him with a suffocating hug, would beam down at him and speak loud and pleased. "The marksman!" He would exclaim, and thus, he was  _ named _ . 'Guardian' had been a title, now he was  _ Marksman,  _ and Ghost had received his own name-  _ Solus.  _ (He remembered how choked up the ghost had gotten when he had suggested naming him, when they had worked together to come up with one. He remembered the electricity that had traveled up his arm when he had first touched the ghost, too- but he squashes that memory down, because it made Solus antsy.) 

Marksman was fairly well-liked, which was… odd, considering his rough personality to strangers and his lack of usual speaking. Perhaps it was how Shaxx boasted of his accomplishments to anyone who listened for too long, or Saint's quieter appreciation for how he brought in birdseed and gently pet the pigeons. Maybe it was the few who worked with him during strikes, or the groups that cycled through Crucible with him- it didn't matter much, because his entire mind stutters to a halt when he gets a lapful of very _handsy_ hunter. Gloved fingers go from his chestplate to his face, (he promptly decides he doesn't like _that,)_ and a human face grins up at him. (Solus gives a terribly indignant sound nearby, and he leans back as far as he can before being promptly dragged back down by his finials. He doesn't know what's happening, but he is suddenly very aware of how easily he could drop this hunter over the side of the tower.) " _So,_ " the hunter is still positively beaming. He hopes his dark expression shows how unamused he is. "Heard from o'le Shaxx that'cha ain't found y'er soulmate." (And he is confused. Soulmate? What did that mean? Solus gives another furious, strangled sound, and he shifts uncomfortably.) "So, figured…" his gloved fingers tap over the plates on his cheek, the other hand still gripping a finial. He doesn't think he wants to hear whatever else is about to be said. "Maybe, one soulmate-less to another, we outta see what happens, go hit the city, hm?" (Solus is sputtering, shrill and distraught, and the hunter gives him a dirty look. Marksman feels something dark coil in his chest.) Hunter turns back to him eagerly, baring a sharp-toothed grin. "What'dya say? Leave the ghosts here in the tower, go find a little ramen shop, see where it goes…" (and he lowers his hands to paw over his chestpiece again, and Marksman feels tense and uneasy.) Solus is trying to interrupt again, but it doesn't cut through the sudden fog that laps at Marksman's thoughts. _No,_ he certainly did _not_ want to be with this person- he nods, tense and rough, and the hunter's grin widened as he kicked his leg out to stand and pat his cheek again. "Well, let's not delay then!" His own ghost makes an appearance, and it doesn't meet Marksman's alarmed gaze as it flit quietly beside a shocked Solus. "'Nubis, can ya transmat us to the city? I'll letcha know when we wanna head back." And Marksman is… _alarmed-_ he had, admittedly, been planning to avoid the hunter for the rest of eternity, and he twists to face Solus with a panicked little look. Solus isn't looking at him, glaring daggers at the hunter, and he is immediately crushed with the realization his only escape won't even look at him. " _Solus,_ " (it is a strained whisper, soft and nearly inaudible, and he gets a startled look from his ghost before they dissolve into blue light and appear in the city.) 

The hunter introduces himself as Quinn, and Marksman doesn't bother giving his name. Not that it bothers Quinn any- he chortles, resting a hand on the exo's knee and leaning heavily into his side. They're settled at an interesting little noodle shop, hunkered at the bar, where Marksman quietly ate ramen while Quinn flirted and cast winks and nudges. (He doesn't understand- there was no  _ spark,  _ his fingers did not thrum with energy, his plating didn't rattle and buzz where Quinn touched him. Words didn't dance in his mouth to shoot back remarks, he didn't  _ want  _ to touch- he suddenly realizes something terrifying, and furiously shoves it away before he can focus on it too long.) "Aw,  _ babe,"  _ ah, he had nearly forgotten about his…  _ company.  _ "You can only play hard t' get for so long," Quinn is pouting, his hand tapping up over his leg to thumb over his hip, and Marksman feels terribly close to violence. ( _ Shaxx would be proud,  _ he reasons,  _ violence was usually the answer,  _ and he shoves more noodles into his mouth to avoid snarling. Solus would be cross if he attacked another Guardian.) "My name isn't ' _ babe,'"  _ he grumbles his response, and Quinn gives a delighted gasp. " _ Oh,  _ does that mean y'er gonna tell me your name?" And Marksman grunts into his noodles, earning a laugh. "Ah, I get it, we aren't there yet. I'll figure it out soon," (he doubts it, but at least he knew Shaxx hadn't been telling people what to call him. He appreciated keeping his name private- it was  _ his  _ name, and he didn't want everyone to know it.) 

Quinn talked. Quinn talked a  _ lot,  _ about things that didn't matter to the exo. He learns that his ghost's name was Anubis, that he used void and couldn't see colors. (Marksman wonders if ghosts tended to fail to bring that part of vision back, for how many he had meant that couldn't see the bright colors. He doesn't bring it up, instead quietly ordering another bowl and ducking into the steam.) He also learns that Quinn was  _ feely,  _ constantly touching; patting his leg, leaning their shoulders together, petting at his finial and pawing his side. There is no electrify- he shuffles until Quinn needs to nearly fall to lean against him and pretends not to notice the way the hunter frowns. The human has dark brown hair and forest green eyes, wears shades of blue with softer greys. His pants are  _ pink. _ Marksman doesn't like that shade. "So, y'er ghost," and  _ now _ Marksman is interested. "Seems a l'il  _ off,  _ don't he?" The titan slanted his eyes, turning slightly. "What's that supposed to mean?" His voice is a growl, deep and dangerous, and Quinn seems pleased to have his attention. "Jus' a l'il different, I guess. Kinda odd how huffy he got when I nabbed ya, don'cha think?" Marksman's expression sours, and he pushes up from his seat. 

"Awh, don't be like that-" Quinn whines, turning to face him, and he twists to him with a scowl.

"I'm afraid my ghost needs me back," Marksman's voice is stiff and hostile as he draws back, eyes harsh and dangerous. "I'd talk to yours about fixing your pants. Pink isn't your color." He ignores the way that Quinn gapes up at him and turns on his heel, prowling out of the shop and losing himself in the crowd with a stomp to his steps. He could have spent his evening on his ship with Solus, watching the planet below and admiring the stars, even if the ghost always stayed at least two feet away from him- his chest feels tight and he hisses, something sad and  _ hurt  _ and something  _ else  _ pressing against his mind. ( _ Those aren't  _ **_his_ ** _ feelings, _ he notes with sudden concern.  _ Unless they were- whose else could they be? _ ) 

He walks for ten minutes before realizing he doesn't have a way to get back into the tower. He didn't have his ship, his ghost, and he was certain if he looked around here he wouldn't even know how to demand Quinn take him back up. (Not that he even wanted to look at the hunter, let alone let him transmat them back to the tower.) It takes an embarrassingly long time to find another Guardian- an Awoken titan, that gave him a long look before agreeing to take him back up, and he hits the tower ground with a thankful hum and a dip of his head towards the Awoken. 

He does not expect Solus to be upset with him. 

The ghost is hovering nervously around Shaxx when he first touches down, and flits eagerly towards him once they make eye contact. Then- then he  _ stops,  _ shell expanding and spinning, optic slanted and unhappy- "did you have fun?" (And Marksman recognizes that tone as hurt and  _ bitter.  _ He cringes.) "Not at all," he admits quietly, ( _ because there was no connection. I missed you. It was lonely.)  _ Solus looks as though he was going to reply before pausing, shell pressing tight to his shell before he spoke. "I need to talk to Amanda." He finally says, and disappears in a spark of blue. (Marksman is surprised by how miserable he feels. He is also surprised that  _ other  _ feelings are still butting heads with his own. He smothers them both and turns back to Shaxx.) 

The other titan practically beams when he sees him, slapping a palm over his shoulder with enough force that Marksman nearly tilts and speaking in a pleased shout that the exo had grown accustomed to. "Ah, Guardian!" He cries, and Marksman dips his head softly. "Returned to the Crucible, have you?" (And he pauses, shakes his head.  _ No,  _ he  _ hadn't  _ came to play Crucible, but something earlier still sat odd under his plating. "Shaxx," the titan falls silent immediately, turning attentively towards him. 

"What is a  _ 'soulmate?'" _


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 🍝🐛 hes eating spaghetti

Saint and Shaxx both seem… concerned, as they sit before him. They'd taken to Saint's ship, (and Marksman noted, with tense amusement, how the ship seemed so small compared to the three titans.) He feels a bit like a child under the intimidating stares from his elders, but there is no malice to their gaze as they nervously shuffle and stumble over their words. 

"Well, a soulmate is-

"Did your ghost not tell you-"

"Hard to describe-"

Eventually they fall silent, the quiet heavy and thick, and Marksman wonders if he did something wrong. He doubts it- but Quinn's words rattle through his head, despite how much he wanted to forget the whole experience. " _ Ain't found y'er soulmate."  _ He doesn't know what means. After a moment, Saint heaves a heavy breath and slumps back in his seat. "A soulmate is… your  _ person,"  _ he gestures vaguely, and Marksman narrowed his eyes. "They are your  _ piece,  _ your  _ spark."  _ (And that word makes him startle, because he thinks he understands.) "A soulmate brings color to your world-" Shaxx interrupts then, laughing and swatting at Saint's arm. " _ Literally!"  _ He exclaims, and Saint shoots him a look. "Yes, literally. When you find your soulmate, you'll have access to colors as well. Your soulmate will be what completes you- what perfectly fits, who will be your final piece." 

He pauses.  _ Color.  _ Color? He already  _ saw  _ colors- saw Saint's purple glows, Shaxx' white and oranges, (Solus was white with orange on his flippers, with a brilliant blue optic and a grey inner body.) "I can see colors." He points out, and they both stare at him in silence. He cringes back slightly. "Since when?" Shaxx is terribly quiet now, leaned forward and curious, and Saint has his head tilted to the right. "Since,"  _ since when?  _ "Since I was revived. When I first woke up." He goes back as far as he can- "It was grey a little bit, I think? Then there were colors. Is it not supposed to be like that?" Saint sits forward, speaking quick and eager. "Who else was there?" He thinks, tilting his head down and humming softly. "Just-"  _ just Solus.  _ He chokes on his words, and Saint nods slowly. "Ah, I assumed as much." (And Marksman blinks owlishly, tilting his head the opposite direction and frowning softly. "Assumed what?" 

Shaxx and Saint share a look, murmuring amongst each other before looking back to him and shaking their heads softly. "Ah, little bird," Saint reaches out, gently patting his knee, and Marksman rests his own golden hand atop the legendary titan's gauntlet and sighs softly. "You  _ know  _ your piece. We cannot guide you- you must use your wings and find yourself." (And maybe Marksman laughs quietly at the bird references, but Saint doesn't seem to take any offense.) Shaxx nods firmly, ducking down to bump his helmet to his forehead, and Marksman hums softly at the affection. "We will be here for you," the Crucible-handler is surprisingly quiet as he talks, and Saint nodded at his words. "But a Guardian never-" 

"A Guardian never runs from conflict, I know." 

Shaxx laughs at his interruption, nodding firmly as they rose to their feet and shuffled from the ship. "Exactly! Now, remember to return to the Crucible-" (Saint slaps at his side, grumbling something about soulmates, and Shaxx throws his shoulders back in the impression of a grin.) " _ And _ to let us know what happens." He nods, carefully nudges his shoulders with theirs, and then steps off the ship and back into the hanger. (Amanda is peering over at them curiously- likely not used to seeing Shaxx away from the Crucible, and he notes with a small bit of unease that Solus is nowhere nearby.) 

He realizes, suddenly, why Saint seemed so smitten with Osiris. (And why Shaxx couldn't see colors.) 

He doesn't find Solus in the hanger. He doesn't see him in by the Drifter, either, but that doesn't surprise him too much. It takes two loops around the courtyards before he  _ does  _ find him; the ghost flit quietly beside Ikora, the pair gazing out over the city. Ikora wore purples and reds, and he found he rather liked her choice in fashion. He wondered if she had  _ her  _ soulmate- (then remembers that she currently had  _ his,  _ and that  _ that  _ was a discussion he needed to have.) "... have you tried  _ talking?"  _ Ikora's voice finally becomes audible over the wind, and he coughs softly into a fist to announce his arrival. It seemed rude to listen in, especially considering the…  _ circumstances. _ Solus' shell expands in his surprise and he twisted quickly around, Ikora turning slower. Her face softened into a tiny smile when she noticed him, her head dipping in greeting as he made his way closer. "Ikora," he greets quietly, tilts his head towards the ghost. "Solus." The lightborn's shell hugs tight to his center, and Marksman's expression slanted into a frown. "I think we should have a talk." He finally murmurs, and Ikora gently nudges Solus' shell with a finger. "I think communication between you two would do wonderfully," she agrees, and Solus shoots her a dry look before bobbing his shell and hesitantly gliding to the Guardian. (And he tries to stifle the aching that bubbles in his chest. Solus wasn't  _ supposed  _ to hesitate, he wasn't supposed to be cautious and avoid him. He doesn't know why it stings as much as it does.)

They transmat to his ship and remain quiet until they enter orbit. Solus rests on the dashboard, (he refuses to look at him,) and his fingers are loud in the silence. _ Taptaptap.  _ "Solus-" 

"I'm sorry." 

He startles at the interruption. Solus still isn't looking at him. "I… shouldn't have left you there. You don't even know why I was…  _ upset,  _ and it wasn't fair for me to be angry with you when you didn't do anything wrong. Just- you're  _ my  _ Guardian. And you were off with someone  _ else,  _ **_without_ ** me. I don't-"

"Why didn't you tell me?" (And Solus  _ finally  _ looks to him, an odd, curious look.  _ Guilty.) _

"Tell you what?"

"You know what." And Solus makes a strangled little sound, hiding in his shell and sighing heavily before speaking. "I don't- I don't  _ know."  _ He finally croaks, (and could ghosts cry? He sounded terribly close to it.) "I don't want you to feel- to feel held back, or  _ obligated,  _ because I'm your ghost, and you're my Guardian. When you went out with the hunter- I was upset, but you had a chance to try and find someone else, and I could cope with that if it made you happy." 

"Solus." 

"And- and a good ghost always puts their Guardian first, and I don't want you to be- to not be  _ happy-" _

__

_ "Solus."  _ The ghost chokes on his words, and he looks so terribly  _ sad.  _ "I didn't have any connection to that hunter." Solus looks up, soft and hesitant. "He wasn't- there was no  _ spark.  _ He was rude and annoying and," he shudders, " _ touchy,  _ but it was  _ different.  _ There wasn't-" he looks down at his hands, curls them into fists and before dropping them back into his lap. "There wasn't any electricity.  _ He wasn't you."  _ And Solus makes a terribly strained sound, shell shuddering, (and Marksman  _ touches,  _ reaches out and pets at his shell, and Solus twists until he can hide his optic in his palm, and his entire arm feels like sparks and lightning and  _ warmth.)  _ "He wasn't you." He repeats, quietly, and his chest feels tight but  _ good.  _ **_Right._ ** "You're my ghost. I'm your Guardian. And if- if you don't want to try, I understand, but-" he hesitates, shaking his head softly. "But I  _ want  _ this. There isn't anyone else I'd want to be with. You're my piece." (Solus probably doesn't get what that means. He wonders if the ghost talked to Saint and Shaxx too- he doubts it.)

When he looks back out the window, the colors of the planets are twice as brilliant.


End file.
